


I'll Follow You

by Theneras



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Culture Shock, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Post-Canon, Starting Over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26229103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theneras/pseuds/Theneras
Summary: After the loss of the Vir Abelasan, Abelas finds himself without purpose. Adrift in an unfamiliar world he asks Mythal for a chance at redemption and purpose.
Relationships: Abelas/Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Abelas/Lavellan (Dragon Age)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 18
Collections: Black Emporium 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dawnstone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnstone/gifts).



"Inquisitor! Are you alive?" Cassandra called.

Solas stood before her, his expression drawn. Ellana was used to him taking his time forming his thoughts into words. She wished to hear what he had to say, but Cassandra's voice held a note of urgency. With a nod, Ellana turned from Solas and descended the stairs to join her companions. 

Cassandra stepped forward and clasped a hand on Ellana's shoulder. "You did it." She tightened her grip a moment before releasing her and stepping back. Each of her companions came forward to congratulate her. 

"So what do we do now?" Cassandra asked.

Ellana searched the landing for Solas, but he wasn't in sight. She bit the inside of her cheek. She'd grown used to his disappearances. The loss of the orb was a blow to him. After sulking alone for a few days, she expected him to return. He had answers for her. With the loss of the orb there was the Anchor to consider. Corypheus claimed it was tainted, broken, and he was unable to remove it. But Solas still believed the orb was the key to removing it. Without it they would need to find an alternative. She sighed internally. He would return when he was ready.

"We return to Skyhold."

"Inquisitor, a moment, please." Harding rushed toward her, crossing her arm over her chest in salute. 

"Scout Harding, are you well?"

"Right as rain, Inquisitor, but you need to see this." Without another word or a glance over her shoulder to see if they followed, Harding hurried off. 

Ellana took a breath and pushed the weariness aside. She wanted nothing more than to return to Skyhold and a long soak in the marble tub waiting in her quarters. She trudged after Scout Harding. 

Lace was the epitome of poise and calm under pressure. For her to be concerned, Ellana knew something needed immediate attention. 

They approached the area the two dragons fell. In the urgency to defeat the Red Lyrium dragon, Ellana hadn't given their dragon ally a second thought. She scanned the area for the large golden creature. The dragon was nowhere to be seen. She breathed a sigh of relief. Likely the dragon was enroute back to the Altar of Mythal now that it had fulfilled its promise. 

Ellana would arrange for the scouts to send offerings of thanks for its assistance. There were a number of goats living at Skyhold, thanks to Morvan the Under. 

Ellana maneuvered around the debris left from the battle. Already reduced to ruin after the creation of the Breach, the Temple of Sacred Ashes was scattered and broken further from Corypheus reopening the Breach. As she stepped around a sizable piece of broken wall, she pulled up short at the bloodied and beaten form in golden armor. The injured person was not a soldier or scout of the Inquisition. 

Moonlight reflected off the detailed faces in the golden shoulder guards of ancient Elvhen armor. Blood darkened the ground beneath them. 

Scouts gathered around, but no one drew close. 

Ellana snapped her jaw shut and hurried forward.

"Scout Harding, what is the meaning of this? How did one of the Sentinels get past our lookout?"

Harding saluted and turned to the man. “My apologies, Inquisitor. You needed to see for yourself. The truth is stranger than Master Tethras' Tale of the Champion."

Varric crossed his arms over his chest. "Harrumph."

"Is that the priest from the Arbor Wilds?" Cassandra asked. "Why is he here? Who attacked him?"

Lace pointed at Abelas. "He was the golden dragon. I watched it fall. Since I couldn't reach the battle, I thought to see if our ally survived the fight." She shook her head. "If I hadn't watched the transformation myself, I wouldn't believe it happened, your worship."

"Wait? Are you telling us the dragon we tamed was the same grumpy guy guarding the creepy well?" Varric asked. "And I thought Hawke's story was weird. You can't make this shit up!"

"Well, there goes the goat idea," she mumbled under her breath. Ellana bit the inside of her cheek. "I didn't know it was possible to take the form of a dragon." 

The buzzing in her head was becoming familiar. Each time it preceded knowledge the Vir Abelasan wished to share with her. She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes. In moments she knew the spell to transform into a dragon. She snorted to herself. That information might have been more useful before the battle rather than after.

"Get a stretcher, we can't leave him here to die."

"No one can get near him. He has some kind of barrier protecting him," Lace said.

"I will attempt to dispel it. Stand back, everyone." Ellana held her hand out, forming the dispel effect in her palm. She only wished to drop his barrier, not negate any healing spell he might have cast. Though, in light of the spreading pool of blood, she suspected he wasn't able to cast a healing spell. Her hand met the barrier and it dissipated with a pop.

"Abelas, can you hear me? Mir halani, falon." She crouched beside him, ready to spring away in case he possessed other defenses. 

She took a steady breath to calm her racing heart and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. It was one of the few places not seeping blood. He groaned, but didn't fight her or open his eyes. Ellana placed a hand on his forehead. Closing her eyes she reached out with her magic to assess the extent of his injuries. There were several smaller cuts, most had stopped bleeding and were not life threatening. She frowned over the large knot on the side of his head. Had debris struck him during the fight, or during his fall? Either way, the injury caused significant swelling in his skull. The large gash from his hairline to temple barely missed his eye. She bit her lip. Could she heal it without leaving a scar? Ellana drew in a breath at the two larger wounds. Talons slashed his back dangerously close to his spine, breaking two ribs. The landing hadn't helped him any. The other was a large gash across his torso. Both bled heavily, though no major blood vessels were severed. Knowing he wasn't in danger of bleeding to death before she could heal him lifted the tension from her shoulders.

"Does anyone have a healing potion?" Ellana searched for her own potions. Short on time, they raced from Skyhold to stop Corypheus, only grabbing essentials, and what few potions were available. Along with the bulk of Inquisition forces, their apothecary was still enroute back to Skyhold. She pursed her lips. She had but a single Lyrium potion left. 

"Mine broke in the fall." Harding shook her head.

"I have a stamina potion left." Varric held the vial out for her.

"Thanks, Varric. It's better than nothing." Ellana took the vial, and popped the cork with her thumb. 

She gently cradled Abelas' head in her lap and dribbled the contents between his lips. She let out the breath she held when he swallowed it. Healing magic worked best with the combined energy of the healer and the patient. A skilled healer could transfer their energy into the spell, healing larger, more difficult wounds, but Ellana didn't have the energy to lend him. A healing potion would ensure any nerves damaged would fully heal. She doubted her own healing skills. Oh they served well enough to tend to the injuries her clansmen faced, but rarely did she tend anyone with injuries this severe.

"Is it just me, or is there something missing?" Varric pointed at the unconscious elf, then circled his face. 

Ellana studied his face. Even through the blood and bruises she should have noticed the apparent lack of Vallaslin that once graced his face from forehead to chin. Seeing the Sentinel's with the familiar markings honoring the gods was a comfort to her. But where were his? Why have them removed?

Low on mana after the battle, she downed the lyrium potion; the sharp tang of it burned her tongue. The effect spread quickly, sharpening her senses as it restored some of her mana. Closing her eyes to the surge of energy flowing through her veins, she placed her hand on the knot at the side of his head. Energy pulsed under her fingers as she tended to the broken vessels and swelling in his brain.

His eyes fluttered open as the spell ended. "It is done?"

Ellana offered him a soft smile. "I defeated Corypheus, thanks to you. Had I known you were the dragon... " Her words tapered off. Would she still ask him to risk his life to fight Corypheus' dragon had she known? She'd used the knowledge of the Well to subdue him. Guilt at the thought she controlled him, forcing him to fight for them, gnawed at her. Was he under geas, or did he have a choice? It was one thing to command soldiers who volunteered and were willing to risk life and limb, but to deny him a choice at all rankled. 

Ellana recalled how easily Mythal controlled her into subduing Morrigan. Would she find the strength to resist if she knew before then? It happened so quickly she’d not had time to fight. His groan of pain drew her from her thoughts. 

“How do I remove the top half of your armor? You have two serious wounds that need immediate attention.”

He frowned at her. “Leave me be.”

“Then you can heal yourself? Would lyrium help?”

He scowled at her. “No, they allowed few of us the freedom to learn those skills.”

“You won’t survive without healing.”

He let out a raspy breath. “I didn’t expect to survive the battle. It matters not. I have fulfilled my purpose and atoned for my failures at the Temple.”

“What? No, I refuse to let you just die.”

If he heard her he didn’t respond. He slipped into unconsciousness once more.


	2. Chapter 2

Abelas woke to the caress of a soft breeze against his cheek. The faint sounds of voices in the distance weren’t the voices of his people. The stone walls and stained glass windows were not familiar to him. The pale, green silk canopy above him and matching bed covers were not luxuries he and the Sentinels enjoyed. The enormous bed could sleep three without encroaching on another; six could sleep comfortably, if the occupants didn’t mind touching.

He assessed his current situation. The room smelled of canavaris and embrium, along with various healing herbs. He found the scents familiar and comforting. Crisp, clean linen bandages wrapped various wounds on his arms, legs and head. Most of these were minor cuts and scrapes. There were still some that were far from fully healed. The tight bandage binding his ribs and stomach restricted his movements and prevented him from taking a deep breath. He hugged an arm around his ribs and tried to sit up; sharp pains shot through his back and stomach.

He grimaced at the images of the battle with the dragon. Claws and teeth ripped and tore at him as they grappled. He’d not expected the beast’s intelligence. Its attacks were precise, intentional and deadly.

Abelas covered the wound on his stomach with his hand. A hind foot ripped through the unprotected skin on his belly, intending to disembowel him. Breaking free took great effort. As he retreated the dragon sashed at his back and wings, sending him plummeting to the ground. Even with healing magic, recovery would take days.

What awaited him now? He no longer felt her. Bare skin, devoid of Vallaslin, peeked between the bandages. Was he truly free after all his years of service? Would she refuse him if he returned to her?

Abelas pinched the bridge of his nose. His head ached as much from his thoughts as the wounds. Blood loss and mana drain weakened him. In his current state he was at the mercy of his host. He pushed the doubt away. A prisoner would find themselves in less hospitable accommodations.

He took in the furnishings, shelves filled with books filled the wall behind a large desk covered with books and scrolls. Arched, stained glass windows stretched upward. Ornate doors, to the foot of the bed, opened to a balcony far above the ground below. To his left was another, a woman stood at the railing. The light of the morning sun obscured the details, but there was a determined strength in her posture as she looked out over the mountains.

“Where am I?” His voice was gravely from sleep and the lack of use. He cleared it and swallowed to ease the dryness of his throat. His breath caught when she turned.

The sun at her back gave her an ethereal glow. He blinked and mentally shook himself to push the rising emotions down.

“I didn’t expect you to wake today.” She gave him a warm smile. Her cheeks darkened as her gaze traveled down his chest. “Your injuries were grave. I healed what I could before depleting our mana. How do you feel?”

“Alive.”

She winced at his curt response. She bit her lower lip and shook her head. “You may claim to welcome death, but I couldn’t let you die. Not if I could save you.” She stepped closer, her chin thrust up and a defiant spark of determination in her eyes.

He sighed. “Ir abelas. My anger is not for you.” He lifted a hand and motioned to the room. “Why am I here?”

A flush of color graced her cheeks once more. “You refused to rest in the infirmary. I didn’t know if it was the humans nearby or the noise, but I had you moved here.” She shrugged. “It is easier to tend you here. Otherwise, I must wade through well wishers circling below insistent in doling out praise every time I step out of my room. I wasn’t the only one fighting Corypheus.”

He raised an eyebrow. “This is your room?”

He’d not expected her humility. She was fierce and fearless when she faced him the first time. Even more so the second; determined to prove herself superior to a dragon’s might.

“I’m Ellana, in case you don’t remember.” She pulled a stool near and sat. “Without your help, I don’t think we would have succeeded.” She eyed him warily.

He let out a sigh. “Your gratitude is misplaced.”

“Then you didn’t have a choice.” Her expression turned dark. “I’m sorry if I had any part in that. Had I known…” Her voice trailed off, her shoulders lifted and dropped. “It doesn’t matter that I thought you simply a dragon. It all feels so wrong.”

Abelas shook his head. “As in the Temple, you proved yourself worthy. I chose to aid you.”

She tilted her head and gave him a curious look before closing her eyes for a moment.

“Your Vallaslin. With it gone, so is the control.” She shuddered and rubbed at her arms. “I didn’t understand, not until I stood before Mythal and she commanded me to stop Morrigan. She said I was free to go, but does that mean forever, or…” She bit her lower lip. “When I realized you were the dragon I…”

“I entered Mythal’s service willingly, bound myself to her, accepted the geas and all that it was. I was never expected to act against what I believed right or just. It prevented betrayal, but other than a direct command was carried out with free will. I served out of loyalty.”

“The voices claim that as well. Their collective will to serve faithfully, to see justice is fairly obtained for those wronged....” She pursed her lips. “I am grateful for Keeper Deshanna’s instructions on how to empty my mind of questions; the Well appears to have an answer for everything.”

He chuckled. He’d found the experience similar at first. Elders often enjoyed sharing knowledge, to have a captive audience allowed them to speak when the notion struck them. 

“Do you think you can make it to the washroom with my help, or should I send for additional help?” She pointed to a door just behind her. 

Abelas assessed his injuries. The worst were half-healed, the smaller ones stung, but he could move without worry of tearing them open. “If I can stand with your help, I can walk the distance.”

* * *

He dropped on to the bed, exhausted from the twenty steps he’d taken to and from the washroom.

Once he was settled, Ellana crossed the room and pulled a long cord.

“I imagine you are hungry.”

Too out of breath to speak he nodded. Food was welcome.

A soft knock at the door preceded the click of the knob.

“Wait there.” Ellana crossed the room to the stairs and held her hand out. Magical energy washed over the floor, revealing, and disarming the ward protecting the room. “Ok, it’s safe now.”

A red-haired elf stopped at the top and bent her head. “My lady, what can I get for you?”

“What have I said about bowing? I’m no better than you are.”

The servant darted a look at Abelas.

“Abelas is one of us, not a guest. He’s not going to tell anyone you didn’t. Please, when it’s just us, treat me like a friend.”

“Forgive me, Ellana.” Her ears darkened with a blush. “Would you like me to bring up two trays?”

“Yes, please.” Ellana clenched her jaw when the girl dipped her head again. She waited until the door clicked shut before letting out a sigh, and the breath she held.

“Don’t fault her for her respect, Inquisitor. You hold a position of authority; there is no shame in allowing her to acknowledge that. Even in your clan there is a hierarchy of authority, is there not?”

Ellana gave him an impish grin. “There is, but even a First answers to their elders, and many in the clan had trouble seeing me as anything but the spindly youth always in trouble. Honestly, I still feel like that girl most days, the way Josie scolds me for forgetting shem etiquette.”

He chuckled. “Then it is fortunate you look the part.”

The servant returned shortly with two trays. She assisted Ellana in moving a small table near the bed, and Ellana joined him for their meal.

While they ate she chatted easily about the current state of events as Skyhold. She named off her companions, detailing their specialties. He recognized two of them from the Temple. The spirit of Compassion, and the bearded warrior. 

“Watch out for Varric, he’s always angling for a story, and will find a way to get you talking whether you wish to or not.” She shook her head and laughed weakly. “And don’t play Wicked Grace against Josie, she never loses.”

“I’m not familiar with the game.”

She grinned. “If you are here long, Varric will insist you learn; this is where he gets you talking, over cards, or terrible dwarven ale.”

Abelas filed the warning away. 

She tilted her head and studied him. “Then again, he may find himself outmatched.” 

“He would be disappointed in the lack of exciting tales, the Temple was secluded even at the height of Elvhenan. Outside affairs had little influence on our day-to-day lives. One squabble is the same as another.” 

Ellana’s warm laughter brought a smile to his lips. “I can only imagine after the many grievances I’ve dealt with since taking the mantle of Inquisitor. With Orlais and Ferelden in turmoil, many have sent their issues here seeking retribution.” A smirk lifted the corner of her mouth. “There are an abundance of goats living in Skyhold; gifts of honor from an Avvar clansman after I defeated his son in battle. Josie worries he would be insulted if anything happened to them. I thought they would make an acceptable offering of thanks to our dragon ally, but somehow I doubt you would be as pleased with them as a dragon would be.”

“I prefer my rams cleaned and roasted. Their hide sticks in your teeth and their fur is difficult to digest.” He held his somber expression as long as he could. 

Ellana snickered behind her hand, and he narrowed his eyes. This sent her into peals of laughter that triggered his own. He grimaced and held his ribs with a groan. 

With their meal finished, Ellana cleared away the plates, leaving them on a tray at the top of the stairs. 

“I’m sure you’re tired but if you feel up to it, I’ve recovered sufficient mana to tend you again.”

He nodded. “Ma serannas.”

She sat beside him. Cool fingers caressed the tender bump on his head. The throbbing in his head eased with a caress of magic. She bit her lip and closed her eyes as her hand brushed gently over the bandaged side of his face. The sting from the cut disappeared. Her hands traveled deftly down to his shoulder, mending the muscle further. He closed his eyes to the gentle caress of her magic against his skin. There was a certain intimacy to healing magic. Her light touch soothed as her magic healed. 

Her fingers tenderly prodded around the wound on his chest and stomach, before she splayed her hand against him. 

While she tended his wounds with magic, he studied her. Her brow furrowed and her nose crinkled with concentration. Her dark brown hair defied the braids she’d used to tame it. Tendrils curled over slender ears and drew attention to her shapely neck. His stomach tightened when she bit her lower lip. 

He’d watched her and her companions as they wandered the outer edges of the Temple. His curiosity piqued when the Temple answered to the power of the Anchor, and again when she completed the petitioners rituals. He’d expected them to force their way in, as the other intruders had. She was there for a different purpose than the ones before her. Instead of ordering the Sentinels to kill them, he confronted her. Her words rang with truth; a challenge to their way of life. That Mythal saw her as a fitting vessel of the Vir Abelasan added to the allure of staying.

Gentle wind through the open doors carried her scent to him, adding to the cascade of sensations overwhelming his senses. He flinched when her fingers caressed over his stomach. He took a shallow breath and held it as her mana curled over his belly, sending a warmth though him. When was the last time he felt the flush of desire from so innocent of a touch? While nothing prevented him from caring for those he lived closely with, she stirred emotions and desires he’d not felt for millennia. They confused and surprised him.


	3. Chapter 3

The somber elf from the temple was nothing like the charming man she tended the past two weeks. He was quick-witted, with a dry humor that she found endearing. Though there were a few occasions she took him seriously, until his eyes twinkled with mirth and his lip lifted into a smug smile. More than once, the voices echoed his laughter, enjoying her moment of gullibility. She’d not felt mocked, the laughter was warm as they joined in their joy. 

Feeling his gaze keenly, she looked up from the reports she tried to focus on.

A thoughtful expression furrowed his brow. “Am I keeping you from your duties?”

She gave him a wide smile. “You are, and I thank you for it.”

“Your work here, as the Inquisitor, is more important than tending to me. My wounds are healed, and I gain strength each day. It is time I find different accommodations.”

“Oh. Will you be staying… ?” The question died on her tongue. She found she didn’t want him to leave yet. She worried he would find this age difficult to navigate. The memories of the Well showed just how different a world he lived in than the one she knew. How prepared was he to face these changes? Ellana wanted him to wait until he was well-informed before he left Skyhold.

“I understand you have lost your expert on the Veil? If I may be so bold, I would offer my assistance. I can also help you understand and use the knowledge of the Vir Abelasan.”

The tension left her shoulders, and she nodded. “I will suggest the idea to my advisors. Morrigan left before you woke, and there has been no sign of Solas since the battle. Madame De Fer returned to Orlais and the Empress, while Lady Nightingale, my spymaster, is soon leaving to become the new Divine.”

“What do you know of this Solas?” Abelas tilted his head as he studied her.

Leliana sent scouts and ravens seeking information on Solas, but he vanished as quickly as he came. He spent a lifetime staying out of notice of the Chantry, if he didn’t wish to be found, no one would find him. Still she mourned the loss of her friend.

“Not as much as I thought. He prefers solitude to companionship. He was knowledgeable about the Breach, and the Anchor, I doubt things would have gone so well without his assistance.” She wondered what would become of the Anchor now. “Since the defeat of Corypheus, many of my companions have returned home, leaving their quarters vacant. I will arrange one of them for you straight away.” 

Pleased he wished to stay, she jumped up from the desk and headed for the stairs.

* * *

With a spring in her step, she returned to tell Abelas the news. He could take up residence in the newly renovated room below hers.

“Hmm, she doesn’t have the look of someone recently ravaged?”

“Do you suppose she has chained him to her bed to serve her?”

“Come now, he was barely alive when they delivered him to her room.”

“Oh, how scandalous, she is a necromancer, you know.”

Three nobles snickered behind their hands.

Ellana’s blood boiled. After all she accomplished in the last year to protect Orlais. She helped Abelas out of friendship, and no small amount of honor for his near sacrifice. It stunned her to find her kindness was the subject of mockery. She clenched her fist and kept her chin up, pretending she hadn’t heard them. Sometimes her enhanced hearing was a curse. No one else in the room reacted. Was it possible she was the only one who heard them? Through the corner of her eye, she committed their faces to memory. Two of them she knew. That they dared to call themselves her allies and speak so vilely behind her back reminded her how divided things in Thedas still were.

She rushed up the stairs, anger burning in her chest. She would pen a letter to Josie at once and have them removed from Skyhold. Whatever alliance they hoped to make with their arrival was now lost to them. Hot tears splashed her cheeks. She slashed at them refusing to accept their degradation.

Ellana hurried to the washroom for a cool wet cloth and crashed face first into a firm chest. Before she could detach herself, a sturdy hand gripped her shoulder and held her at arm’s length.

“Something has happened. Are you injured?"

She shook her head, unable to speak around the sob threatening to escape.

Cool fingers touched her chin and raised her face. Through tear-blurred vision she looked shamefully into intense golden eyes. Her determination crumbled and the dam of tears burst. She buried her face in her hands and cried, unable to tell him what she overheard.

* * *

Abelas wrapped his arm around her shoulder and helped her to a chair. He moved toward the bellpull and gave it a tug. When the servant opened the door, he asked them to fetch a friend to help her.

“What happened, ser?” The elf maid eyed him warily.

“I do not know, she returned moments ago distraught.” He gave her a pleading expression. “She just came from speaking with her advisors, did she receive tragic news?”

The dark-haired elf gave him a curt nod. “I will fetch Lady Montilyet at once.” She bobbed a curtsy and dashed away.

Abelas rubbed gentle circles over her back. “Ir abelas, falon. Tell me what troubles you.”

She shook her head and buried her face in her hands. He stayed close, and murmured soothing words in Elvhen attempting to stem the tide of tears. She reached out her hand and he took it, giving a reassuring squeeze.

The ambassador burst through into the room from the staircase, and rushed up the stairs to her side. “Ellana, what is wrong, what happened?”

“Why are humans so horrible, Josie?”

The woman called Josie shook her head. “Tell me what happened. I will deal with them immediately.” Josie gave Abelas a stern look, and he pulled away. She took Ellana’s arm and tugged her toward the settee where they could sit together. Ellana followed meekly and slumped beside her, her face buried in her hands. “Rylia, be a dear and bring us some tea.”

The elf curtsied and bounced down the stairs. “Right away, Lady Montilyet.”

“Would you kindly step outside the door at the bottom of the stairs?” Lady Montilyet narrowed her eyes at Abelas.

“No, I will not leave until I know what has happened.” He crossed his arms and stared her down.

Admirably, she met his stare with a glare of her own.

The sobbing slowed and between hiccups, Ellana spoke. “He can st-st-stay. You warned me people would gossip. I just… I never imagined anyone could think of something so… repulsive.” She shuddered and took the offered handkerchief. “I doubt they realized I could hear them all the way at the front of the hall.”

He turned away and paced. Loath to leave her company for a world he knew little about, Abelas waited too long to request a room of his own.

“Suggesting we were intimate was something I expected, but when they implied I used necromancy to revive the dead for my pleasure… “

Lady Montilyet gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth.

“What?” He roared.

Ellana flinched at the sound of his voice.

“Let this trouble you no more. I will deal with them.” Abelas retrieved his armor from the stand.

Ellana rushed to his side and gripped his arm. “What do you intend to do?”

“What must be done, traitors do not deserve mercy.” He glared down at her.

“Absolutely not, the Inquisition will deal with them.” Josie stood and slashed a hand through the air. “To physically act against them, constitutes an act of war. There are other ways.” Her eyes burned with determination. “I will not be lenient.”

“And just what do you intend?” Abelas asked.

“When I am done with them, polite society will shun them. No noble house will come to their aid. Trust me, death would be favorable to what they will face.”

Abelas nodded. “Is this acceptable to you? If not, I will hunt them once they leave. No one will trace their deaths to the Inquisition.”

Ellana shook her head. “Josie is very good at what she does. Not only will she destroy them socially, but the Inquisition will control their assets.” She bit her lip. “Do you really think this warrants such punishment? It’s just nasty gossip.”

“You lead the most powerful army in Thedas. This is not random nobles gossiping. This is a calculated attack to undermine your authority and impugn your reputation.” Abelas clenched his fists. “You need my skills as a Sentinel.”

“What, precisely, are those skills?” Lady Montilyet asked.

“I served as the guard for the highest monarch in Elvhenan. Suffice to say my skills are well-rounded, from intrigue, assassination, to bodyguard. I am well-versed in dealing with nobles and anyone who poses a threat.”

“The nuances of court may differ from what you are used to. We are not able to act as we wish. I trust you will not act without leave to do so? While Thedas is grateful to see Corypheus defeated, and the Breach sealed, Inquisitor Lavellan’s position is such that even a minor false move could tip the scales. As the Ambassador to the Inquisition, it is my job to see those who leave here spread as positive a tale as possible.”

Abelas paused in contemplation. “Very well, Ambassador. I will not act on my own unless her life is in immediate danger.” He inclined his head, the ambassador was talented and capable. The title of Inquisitor was a lofty position, but not without impunity. Even his actions under Mythal’s command were handled discreetly. He smiled down at Ellana, her hand still wrapped around his forearm. “If you are well, I will take my leave.”

Ellana jerked her hand away. “Ir abelas.”

He pretended not to see the pretty blush on her cheeks. “The Inquisitor informs me there is a room available for me?”

Lady Montilyet cleared her throat. “Corypheus was the main threat to Thedas. With his defeat many will seek to denounce the Inquisitor, and the Inquisition. However, the chaos his actions created still reigns unchecked. Until then, the Inquisition is needed. In light of today’s events, I agree with Ellana that an additional layer of security is prudent. The recently renovated room below is yours. Unless you object, Inquisitor?”

Ellana tilted her head. “There is another exit that leads to the garden below. Few will realize exactly which room is his since it joins the same hall the other companions rooms are off of.”

Abelas nodded. “Then I will become familiar with my surroundings.”

“I will show you your room.” Elllana headed toward the stairs.

“I have taken up enough of your time, Inquisitor. I will begin my duties immediately, and let you return to your own.” Abelas bowed. “Ambassador? Would you kindly show me my room?”


	4. Chapter 4

Abelas wandered the ramparts, taking in the mountains and grounds within the fortress. While much had changed over the millennia, there were still many things that hadn’t. The ancient spell that held back the cold lingered still. He felt it strongest in the garden, and the courtyard. There was a freshness to the wards, as if someone strengthened them recently. The signature he sensed embedded deep within the spells gave him pause. Who exactly was Solas? How had he known to find the mountain fortress? What had he meant when he suggested great change was coming? Abelas let out a defeated breath. He’d hoped to ask Solas if he knew where other Elvhen could be found. The isolation of the Temple served as a sanctuary, but cut them off from other elves of old. Knowing his kin still wandered the world gave him hope that the past would not be forgotten. 

Skyhold housed a number of elves, both city and Dalish. Some worked as servants, others as scouts and spies. They eyed him warily, just as Rylia had. Ellana was the bridge between the past and the present. Through the Vir Abelasan she understood what was lost. For all the People lost over millennia, they were still strong, proud and kind. 

Abelas was learning to find the value in the new traditions, and the elves through history that made a difference in their lives; the hardships faced, and the traditions they made from the ashes of tragedy. Ellana gave him hope that the modern elves were not unreachable. They wished to understand their history. The struggles they faced after the loss of the Evunaris were no less significant to them as his were to him. They all asked the same questions. Why had the Creators abandoned them? Did he speak to them? Why did the Sentinels hide while elves were enslaved? He couldn’t give them the answers they wanted. Was it any wonder they were wary of him?

Lost in thought as he wandered, Abelas entered into the room overlooking the main gate. Abelas took in the sparsely furnished room. A soldier's room, with a ladder leading to a loft above. His brow lifted at the hole in the roof. A man hunched over a desk, studying a map. 

Abelas considered returning the way he came rather than interrupt. The man fit the description Ellana provided of Commander Cullen Rutherford. While his wanderings brought him here unexpectedly, it was time he met the man in charge of the soldiers and security for the fortress.

Looking up from the map he studied, his eyes narrowed at the light streaming in through the door, then a slight smile lifted the scar on his lip.

“Welcome to the Inquisition, I am Commander Cullen, I’m glad to see you’ve recovered. The Inquisitor was quite distraught when she found you injured.” He stood and rested his hand on the pommel of his sword. “I admit I am surprised you wish to stay. Not after the events at the Temple.”

“I understand you tried to prevent bloodshed. The Sentinels were duty bound to protect the Temple from all intruders, only a direct order could stop the fighting.”

“I’m sorry for the loss of your people. It was unfortunate you were caught in the middle of all this. Had we had more time, we might have established a truce sooner.”

Abelas inclined his head. “I appreciate the sentiment, Commander. I wish I could say an emissary would have been successful. We have guarded Mythal’s Temple and secrets for millennia. Allowing anyone to take news of the Temple’s survival to outsiders was forbidden. That we fought a common enemy was the only reason I accepted the Inquisitor’s alliance.” 

“I understand.” Cullen pinched his lips together. “What are your plans now?”

“With the Temple breached, my services are no longer required. I find myself without purpose. The Inquisitor was kind enough to allow me time to consider what awaits me.”

“What of your companions? Do you wish to find them? Or will they follow you here?”

Abelas shook his head sadly. “I cannot say. Since leaving the Arbor Wilds, I’ve lost contact with those left. In time some may find their way here, or they may scatter and go into hiding. Until we understand more of this Age, it’s too soon to say.”

Cullen nodded. “The Inquisition is in a similar position. With the defeat of Corypheus, the Inquisition faces new challenges. Some feel our services are no longer needed.” Cullen waved at the map before him. “Our focus has shifted to recovery and restoration, but there are still many areas of unrest where our soldiers are requested. There are a number of active rifts and reports of demon sightings.”

“Were these not sealed when the Breach was sealed?” Abelas frowned at the map. Two sets of pins were used to mark different locations on the map. The majority of them were black, but a good many red ones covered the map as well. 

“Some are dormant, but still a potential threat under the wrong conditions. We’ve dealt with those in populated areas, but there are many in remote locations which pose a threat to smaller villages, or travelers.”

“She has closed so many.” Abelas rubbed his chin. “How taxing is it to close a tear in the Veil?”

Cullen’s expression dimmed. “She won’t admit it, but each time she uses the Anchor it grows unstable.” He shook his head. “Is it right to ask her to risk her life each day with the worst of the threat dealt with? What happens if we leave them? Will they one day threaten Thedas like the Breach?”

“I cannot say.” The veil between the world and the Fade was unnatural to Abelas; a construct that suppressed the flow of mana and spirits and altered the world as he knew it. Within the Temple, Mythal’s wards drew power from the Fade protecting those who lived within. With the creation of the construct, some of these wards failed, requiring the Sentinels to retreat deeper into the Temple. Over time, the forest reclaimed much of the surrounding structures where the wards failed, reducing them to ruins. 

“The Inquisitor is returning to the field now that the celebrations have run their course. We still receive frequent requests for assistance and have scouting teams all over Thedas.” 

“What of security here? Was it wise to allow so many to leave? Your forces were stretched thin even before the battle with Corypheus.”

Cullen’s shoulders stiffened. “Those in the Inquisitor’s circle are here voluntarily. With the defeat of Corypheus, the immediate threat has been dealt with.” Cullen rubbed the back of his head. “Those assigned to Inquisitor Lavellan’s security are still in Skyhold. All new recruits are kept at the base camps to reduce the risk of spies or assassins finding their way in. Short of assigning her personal guards, every caution has been taken. While I would prefer more able fighters within the fortress, we have the advantage if we are attacked.”

The door behind Abelas opened. “Oh, there you are.”

“Inquisitor, what can I do for you?” Cullen bowed slightly.

Ellana inclined her head, “Commander. I was looking for Abelas.” She gave him a small smile. “Do you feel recovered enough to join my team for a mission?”

“I am recovered.” 

“Wonderful! With the celebrations over, most of my companions have returned home to see to personal matters and take much needed time off.”

“You are due to take time off as well, Inquisitor.” 

“As are you, Commander.”

Cullen chuckled. “I confess I’m a little jealous that I need to stay here and coordinate the return of our forces from the Arbor Wild. Getting out of Skyhold from time to time is nice.”

“You have left Skyhold all of five times, Commander; all but one of those trips entailed leading armies into battle. I hardly consider that a relaxing activity.”

“Aside from our visit to the palace, they were preferable to the endless reports that cross my desk.” 

Ellana chuckled. “Touche, Commander.” She turned to Abelas. “You will need a mount, I worry your other mode of transportation would incite the locals to war.” She smirked at him. “I admit I’m curious to experience the thrill of flying. I wouldn’t object if you agreed to a rider.”

Cullen cleared his throat. “Unless he can carry three, I imagine your companions would object.”

“I did not cast the spell on myself, without practice, the creature I can summon is significantly smaller than you expect.” 

Ellana closed her eyes, a telling sign that the Well spoke to her. “Ir abelas, I hadn’t considered the sanctity of the dragon form. I meant no disrespect.” She bent her head low.

“Ma serannas, Inquisitor. I was not offended. The spell was a gift, I am free to use it as I see fit.”

Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled softly. “We are leaving in the morning. Given the stack of reports we will be in the field a while. Shall we see if Master Dennet has a suitable mount?”


	5. Chapter 5

Stone-Bear Hold was filled with music and laughter. It was a rare moment of revelry for the Inquisitor and Abelas since leaving Skyhold some months ago. For helping the Avvar, the Inquisition was invited to stay with the hold as long as they wished. Ellana was now kin, with a legend mark of First-Thaw, an honor bestowed upon her for defeating Hakkon Wintersbreath, and her kindness shown to the Stone Bear clan. Abelas sat on a bench along the wall of the clan’s meeting hall. 

“You fought well, Lowlander.” The Augur settled beside Abelas and held a tankard out to him. He glanced about them before continuing. “First-Thaw carries an old magic, but you, you are old magic.” He lifted his own cup and took a slow drink. His expression held no malice or suspicion, only curiosity. 

Abelas nodded. “Few accept the truth of it, but yes, you are correct.”

The old man shook his head. “The Lowlands are filled with fools and blind men. They cannot see the signs written in the wind, in the sway of the grass, or the call of the skies.”

“Your people are in tune with the world and the spirits. You have found a connection long severed from the Waking world.” Abelas took a drink, savoring the strong meade made from honey. “Spirits once roamed freely. They were guides, protectors, teachers and companions. So much was lost with the creation of the Veil. It is good to see some things haven’t changed.” 

Familiar laughter carried on the wind, drawing Abelas’ attention. Ellana sat with Svarah Sun-Hair and Professor Kenric. They listened intently to Scout Harding as she recounted one of the Inquisitor’s many adventures. 

“All things have a beginning and an end. The cold of winter ends with spring, and the harvest precedes the death of winter. The circle continues unbroken and the old makes way for the new. These things never change. The essence of life cycles on.”

“Not all things die in winter. The trees sleep and wait, waking with the warm sun of the new year.”

“Eventually even a tree enters the eternal sleep. The Inquisition Skauld honored the dead and the living with his tales today. A reminder that life is precious, and meant to be lived to its fullest.” The Augur drained his cup in one long drink and waved at a young boy who rushed over and refilled their cups. “How long will your heart stay trapped in winter? You served her faithfully for so many years, would she not wish you to find happiness?”

Abelas’ eyes snapped back to the mage. “What do you know?”

The Augur shook his head. “Feelings, whispers mostly. They speak of your sorrow, your faithfulness, and your guilt. Is freedom so terrifying that you wish for death?”

Abelas pinched his lips together. “At first, yes. Now?” He shook his head. In the months since he helped Ellana defeat Corypheus’ dragon he’d found a new purpose. During their travels he guided Ellana through exercises to control the voices of the Vir Abelasan. In return, she showed him the world through her eyes. A world different than the one he knew, but one with more value than he saw before.

Ellana turned his way. A flush of pink colored her cheeks when she met his gaze. She smiled warmly before turning back to the tale. Abelas took a long drink from his cup.

“First-Thaw is a lovely woman, clansmen are asking if she is spoken for, and for how long. Even Rolfson boasted his skill at untying knots.”

“What does that mean?”

“Apologies, I forget you are not familiar with our marriage customs.”

Abelas’ face flushed with warmth. The Augur had a way of making him uncomfortable with his seemingly innocent banter. He shook his head.

“A groom unties knots on a rope his bride has tied. He has until the end of the wedding-chant; the number of knots untied are the number of years they will stay married.”

Abelas narrowed his eyes at him before taking a long drink from his cup. “The Inquisitor is more concerned with the fate of Thedas, than marriage.”

“What will you do when her work is done? What reason will you give to stay then?”

Abelas frowned into his cup. “She is my superior. I will go where I am directed.”

The Augur shrugged his shoulders and stood. “How can one with your years be so obtuse? Is it not easier to speak the truth than to face the fire of a dragon?”

Abelas glared after him as he walked away. He was far too perceptive and yet dense at the same time. He turned back to his cup and found it empty. He caught the eye of the boy with the pitcher and he hurried over to refill it.

“They will start the dancing soon.” The youth grinned widely. “My brother plans to ask First-Thaw to dance. I hope she refuses, he’s become an ass since the assault on the Jaws of Hakkon. Just raise your cup if you want another.” The boy moved easily into the crowd.

The mood in the room shifted as the music changed. Couples moved to the center of the room now that the tables of food were pushed to the side. 

Ellana looked his way, a slight smile on her face. She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Thane Svarah nudged her and pointed across the room toward two Avvar hunters, their hands tied together, as they engaged in a test of strength. The two women laughed over their antics.

Abelas stood from the bench and wove through the crowd for the door. He needed quiet and fresh air to clear his head of Augur's words. He couldn’t hope for more than to work with her. He shouldn’t want more. He’d found contentment in his service to Mythal. While Ellana accepted his assistance with the Vir Abelasan, she made it clear early on she was in charge. He respected her authority. She earned her place before he met her, and through her choices she continued to be worthy. No matter the outcome, she accepted responsibility for her actions and those of her companions.

Abelas headed toward the cliff, and sat, looking out over the water. He let out a loud breath, releasing the tension in his shoulders.

“Not enjoying the celebration?” Ellana stood over him, her brow crinkled in consideration.

Abelas gave her a small smile and shook his head. “Merely contemplating the events of the past few days.”

Ellana sat beside him and pursed her lips. “So much of our history is lost; the Chantry either erased it completely or rewrote it to hide the truth.” 

“Humans are not alone in this.” The Evunaris did the same; Geldauran wasn’t the only Forgotten One sealed away and struck from the records.

“Had just one of them returned to Drakon, life for our people might be completely different today.” She let out a shaky breath. “Should I have spared him the truth of the Seekers and the Chantry? Was it right to burden him with that just before he died?”

“The Seeker intends to reshape the Order, does she not?” he asked.

“Yes. Ameridan led because he was needed, he served to see that mages were treated fairly, he wanted our people to live alongside humans in peace. Everything he stood for, everything he intended, fell to ruin when he didn’t return.”

“The truth is hard to hear sometimes, and harder to say, but in the end for someone who values honesty, it is much kinder than a lie.” Abelas gave her arm a reassuring squeeze before letting go.

Ellana reached for his hand and wound her fingers between his. 

He blinked at the tender caress of her thumb over the back of his hand. His heartbeat sped, and a dry lump formed in his throat. Augur was right, for all his years Abelas was obtuse. 

Ellana sighed and loosened her hold on his hand. Abelas curled his fingers around hers and pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

She sighed and settled against his side. “I wasn’t sure the truth would be welcome.”

Abelas shook his head. “I’ve denied what was between us. Fooled myself that working with you was enough.”

“I worried the attraction was unwelcome.” She turned her face up and touched his cheek with her hand a large grin on her face. “When I asked Mythal years ago for a gallant elvhen suitor, I never imagined she would deliver one in dragon form and expect me to fight him.”

Abelas laughed and kissed her temple. “She has an odd way of fulfilling requests, and knowing just what is needed.”

Ellana leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth. His breath caught in his throat, and he chased her lips with his. 

“The hold has given me a dwelling now that I’m kin. Would it be too forward of me to ask you to walk me home?” She leaned close and whispered suggestions on how she wished to spend the remainder of the evening.

Abelas chuckled and lifted her to her feet as he stood. “I find myself drawn to strong women who know what they want.”


End file.
